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“Are you unwell?” Mrs. Myers, the interviewer, asked.
“No, I mean, yes, I feel great, actually. I mean, I’m good, I’m happy. Yes, I’m good,” Hannah Johnson said, the words spilling out as a blush darkened her light features. Her words were true, too — Hannah felt fine, except for the anxious voice in her head that scolded her babbling inelegance.
“Good,” Mrs. Myers said, tenting her fingers and leaning forward, “listen, Hannah, there’s no need to be nervous — I can see that you want this job, and you’re well qualified.”
“Tell me about your last job again, but this time, only your favorite things.”
Hannah swallowed and shut her eyes, trying to recall the best aspects of Gary’s Famous Clothes. Her job had been lonely, counting shipments of clothes and then documenting the deliveries and sending them to retail. “I enjoyed the trust and independence my boss placed on me, and all of my coworkers trusted me, and I trusted them. That was the best part — we were a team,” she finally said.
“Excellent. I think you’ll find here, at Dr. Yozkin’s clinic, we’re more than a team. We’re family.” “Thank you so much,” Hannah said.
Mrs. Myers stood and shook Hannah’s hand, and a minute later, Hannah was in the parking lot, walking to her car. She was a young twenty-four years, with a tendency towards twirling her locks or laughing so hard she snorted. She was slender, with long brown hair and pale skin that freckled in the summers. Hannah’s young life had been carefree and sheltered, but if she got this receptionist job at Dr. Yozkin’s clinic, she could finally afford to move out of her parent’s home.
She slipped her keys in her pink Volvo’s ignition, and soon she was cruising down the streets of Montpelier, watching trees and houses zoom by in a colorful panache that embodied small town America. Her cell phone vibrated in her purse, and Hannah fumbled for it as she eased towards a stop-sign.
There was a text from her boyfriend, Matt Brezinski, “Did you get the job???”
Hannah quickly typed, “Don’t know yet.” She stuck the phone back in her purse, and moments later, it vibrated again. Dammit Matt, she thought, let me drive in peace. Her boyfriend, the faithful Matt, was a tall, broad, man-child who worked as an intern at an electronics company. He was brilliant in the ways of science and math, but on the social scene, his clumsy manners and obnoxious laugh were beyond embarrassing.
At a red light, Hannah looked at her phone. “I know you’ll get this job baby! You deserve it sooooo much! I love you!” Matt wrote.
Hannah responded, “love you too, see you soon,” before powering off her phone. The light turned green, and then she was once again cruising, her thoughts turning to Matt. He was a nice guy, her boyfriend of three years, but lately, she found herself…uninterested. Their social life consisted of football games at Elle’s Tavern, movies, and an occasional road-trip to see his parents in Derby.
Their sex was adequate, she supposed, though Matt was always more excited than she was. He was by-default flirty, touchy and horny, whereas Hannah needed foreplay, time to warm up, to get her juices flowing — a task which Matt seemed less and less interested in undertaking. As a result, their sex was generally a one-sided, brief affair that was annoying and boring.
Thoughts swirling, Hannah parked in her parent’s driveway. She got out and stretched her arms high, and then she was lifted off the ground, two strong arms crushing her ribs. “Ow!” she yelped.
Her assailant set her down gingerly. “Sorry babe, I just wanted to surprise you,” he said. She spun to face Matt. He was wearing a black leather jacket, cowboy boots, and horrifyingly…a gaudy, multicolored bandana around his forehead. “What the hell are you wearing?” she demanded, running her fingers along tender ribs. She hated when Matt was rough.
“Oh, you like this?” he asked, delivering a half-cocked grin that would have sent Hannah swooning three years prior. “I’m trying a new look. I think I’ll get a motorcycle, become a badass.”
Hannah fought to suppress a giggle. Matt was serious — his hopeful, naive expression told her as much — but he might have looked threatening from a distance. Up close, his James Dean swagger and unspoiled clothes made him a caricature of a western villain: cartoonish, overdone…lame. “I liked your old vibe, you know, like a normal person?” Hannah said, smiling to lessen her word’s impact.
Matt would have none of it. “You don’t like it?” he asked, his tone implying that Hannah was either blind, fashion-deaf, or in one of her ‘moods’. “This jacket alone cost 400 dollars,” he said, as though that made him seem anything other than stupider.
“It’s too drastic, sweetheart,” she said, placing her hand on his forearm, “why don’t you just be yourself?”
Matt swatted her hand away. “This is me.”
“Look, I’m tired. I worked all morning and then I had a stressful fucking interview this afternoon. Can we just go inside, eat, and watch bahis firmaları some TV?”
Matt’s expression softened a fraction. “Say you like my new clothes.”
“Fine, I like them,” she said, rolling her eyes. Matt immediately brightened, and he stepped forward and lifted Hannah in his arms, picking her up with a grunt of effort.
“The cowboy look will grow on you — you know what they say, everything’s bigger in Texas.”
“We’re in Vermont, and you’re not a cowboy.”
“Which means the ladies will be that much more surprised,” he said. “I mean, at the mall, they were practically all over me.”
“For your money.”
“Let’s go in,” Matt said, setting Hannah down and swatting her on the ass.
A warm, hearty, family-dinner did nothing to lift Hannah’s mood. Her mom and dad loved Matt, they had since the beginning of their relationship. Her dad could barely shut his mouth long enough to chew his mashed potatoes before he was joshing with Matt, speculating as though Hannah weren’t even present.
“You think she’ll get the job?”
“How is she going to work and raise my eight grand-children at the same time?”
“What time is the football game Friday?”
They yakked on with occasional interruptions from Hannah’s mom, who dutifully set more beef, more corn, more beer on the table until the men were stuffed. Afterwards, they all sat in the living room and watched Law and Order on the big screen. Halfway through, Hannah’s dad began to snore, and her mom startled him with a swat on the chest.
“Get up, you fell asleep,” she said.
Her dad awoke, smiled dreamily, and rose to his feet. “Have a goodnight, Matt. Hannah, you too,” he said, even as Hannah’s mom escorted him towards the hall.
“Turn the lights off after Matt leaves,” her mom said, following her husband to the bedroom. Something subtly changed by the sudden absence of Hannah’s parents — the room seemed emptier, darker…sinister.
“Come here babe, we’re barely touching,” Matt whined, reaching across the sofa and grabbing Hannah’s arm. She considered resisting — Matt had been insufferably cocky that night, wowing her parents with plans of his ‘big dreams’ which all seemed to conclude with him sitting behind a fancy desk, doing not-a-goddamned-thing every single day.
Matt spread his legs, and Hannah laid down between them, her head on his stomach. Law and Order still had 10 minutes remaining, and she closed her eyes, hoping to spoil Matt’s plans by un-sexily falling asleep. Her efforts were thwarted, though, by Matt’s hand creeping down her back, towards her ass. Once he had a handful of cheek, his fingers began probing her crack, and then, her anus.
“Hey, stop!” she said, twisting her hips away.
“What’s your fucking problem?” he asked. She lifted her head to meet his gaze, and there was little of the love compared to the texts he’d sent a few hours earlier.
“I’m tired, and I don’t want your fingers up my ass,” she said.
“Then how about my dick in your mouth?” Matt asked, thrusting his belt buckle upwards. Hannah turned her face away, so her cheek was resting on his navel, but Matt pushed on her shoulders, guiding her head towards his crotch. “Suck it, c’mon,” he demanded, already unzipping his jeans.
Hannah had been here before. Boys were thrusting their dicks in her face since she began high school a decade prior. Her first time had been with a senior, and within moments of first contact, he ejaculated messily all over her mouth and face, and she’d been so grossed-out that she didn’t give a blowjob for two months. The second boy had been a trailer-park guy named Jake, a thin, dirty white-boy with a penis like a snake. She first sucked him in the back of a rusted F-250 that hadn’t been driven in years, and then many times afterwards. Those long-ago memories of sucking, spitting, gagging and swallowing his juices were happy ones — he was always so grateful afterwards, and she got invaluable experience for future men. But, when Jake from the trailer-park wanted to fuck Hannah, she dumped him — she was too young, and his cock too big, for Jake to be her first.
While Hannah was lost in her memories, Matt produced his penis like he was unveiling the cure to cancer. Hannah shrugged. Sucking was quicker than fucking, and she just wanted to go to sleep without concerns of a bitchy boyfriend for the next two days. Matt’s dick was thin and long, with a bulbous tip that made servicing him rather unpleasant. His pubic hair was dark and jungled, and Hannah wished he would occasionally groom. His dick was soft, and Hannah bent her mouth to the task, gently massaging his testicles with her hands.
She sucked on his limp worm, and within moments, he hardened in her mouth. She could feel the veins in her cheeks, and the smell of Dial soap was particularly strong, which made Hannah want to gag. She preferred a salty, sweaty taste, but it didn’t matter, because Matt was already moaning and thrusting, signaling she was halfway-through the ordeal. “You like that big kaçak iddaa dick? Huh? You like it?” Matt asked, his breath quickening as he grabbed a handful of her hair.
With Jake, Hannah thought, we’d barely be started.
Less than two minutes into the blowjob, Matt groaned, thrust, and finally, ejaculated into her mouth. She swallowed quickly without tasting, and Matt laid back like a god, his limp dick shriveling against his white stomach. Hannah stood and wiped her mouth, and from her expression, Matt knew better than to linger.
“Thanks, that was so great, I love you,” he said, buttoning his jeans.
“Love you too,” Hannah said, smiling while Matt rearranged himself. After a minute, he departed, smugly satisfied, and Hannah went to brush her teeth, eager to find sleep.
Blaring beeps, intrusive and rude, penetrated Hannah’s mind. She tried to turn away, to shut it out, but the annoying noises, the beeps, grew stronger. She blearily opened her eyes, wiped spittle from her lips, and slapped her cellphone. She missed the device, though, and the beeps grew louder still — a feature of the alarm clock that made Hannah wonder what the hell she was thinking when she installed it.
Over breakfast, her phone rang, and she answered it immediately, “Hello, this is Hannah Johnson.”
“Hannah? This is Mrs. Myers from Dr. Yozkin’s clinic.”
Hannah upended a glass of orange juice, washing down the toast that she was working on. She sat up straight, her heart speeding up. “Mrs. Myers?”
“Yes, and if you’re still available, we’d love to hire you here at Dr. Yozkin’s clinic.” Hannah squeezed the phone so tight she thought she might break it. She got the job! She found her tongue tangled for a moment and forgot to respond. “Hannah? Hannah are you there?”
“Yes, I’m here. I’m sorry, I’m just a little overwhelmed, thank you so much.”
“You’re quite welcome. If you have time, you can start today. Come in around…1 p.m.?”
“I’ll be there,” Hannah said.
“See you then.”
Hannah shut her phone and stood up, not sure what to do first. Tell her parents? Her best friend Alyssa? Matt? Take a shower? Pick out her outfit? Post on social media? For a moment she simply stood in the kitchen, wondering where this new path might take her. She looked around and realized she could be moving away soon, and instead of pure elation, she felt a hint of regret, and sorrow, for the changes that were about to come.
The clinic was a lease, a medium-sized office space attached to the end of a strip mall. Once inside, Mrs. Myers directed Hannah to a young Hispanic receptionist named Jose. He was cute, perhaps two or three years younger than she, with a shock of black hair and stubbled cheeks. As Jose explained the computer system for checking-in patients, a slew of nurses, techs, and even Dr. Yozkin himself entered the clinic, met Hannah, and then moved towards their tasks.
Hannah listened intently while Jose talked. He clicked on this, opened that, explained the importance of this check box, but…his eyes kept drifting to her tits, her legs, and Hannah eventually crossed them, hoping to dispel Jose’s hopes of ever touching her. He was not ugly, but he was not a man, and Hannah didn’t need a boywho couldn’t think beyond his cock.
As Jose was clicking away on patient files, the sliding-glass front doors opened, and Hannah looked up to see who it was. It was a tall white man, in nurse scrubs, with a handsome, clean-shaven face.
“Morning Jose,” the man said, his voice sending shockwaves of memories through Hannah’s entire body.
“It’s the afternoon, Jake, not morning,” Jose said.
Jake. It was really him — her former fling from high school. Hannah couldn’t believe her eyes. She thought he would never graduate high school, or leave the trailer park, but here he stood before her, as polished and confident as any professional man. “Hi, I’m Jake,” he said, extending his hand towards Hannah. She looked up into his eyes, and he stared back, his memory undoubtedly stirred.
“Hannah,” she said, shaking his hand. Her touch, and the sound of her voice, made him hesitate.
“Hannah?” Jake said, tasting the name like it was a long-ago special recipe that he’d forgotten.
“Yes — Hannah.”
“Belmont High School? Class of 2005?” Jake asked.
“It’s me, Jake,” she said, and he smiled hugely, stepping around the desk to embrace her. Hannah stood, and she had to get on her tiptoes to give him a proper hug. Jake smelled like designer cologne, and his body felt hard, filled with muscles, all traces of his gangly teen years gone. They locked eyes for a moment, and Jake’s blue orbs penetrated Hannah’s, seemingly reading her thoughts. As though to illustrate the point, he scanned her chest, and her legs, supposedly looking at her outfit.
“You look good…Hannah,” Jake said, licking his lips as he spoke her name.
“Thanks, it’s been too long.”
“Maybe we can catch up over dinner, or perhaps…”
“Hey!” kaçak bahis Jose said, “I’m trying to train the new person here, Jake, and we’ve got a lot of stuff to cover.” Jake’s eyes, filled with amusement, flittered over Jose. “Calm down, Jose, sheesh — you’d think your ex-girlfriend — Isabella — was going to come busting through the doors at any moment.”
“She was a puta,” Jose said.
Jake shrugged and shifted his attention back to Hannah. “I have to get to work, but we should definitely catch up later,” he said. “I’ll be around.”
“OK,” she answered, smiling as Jake confidently strutted away. Even his walk had changed! Gone were his lanky strides, replaced by powerful, smooth paces.
The remainder of the day passed in a blur. Jose guided Hannah through dozens of computer systems, phone procedures and patient-care interactions. She absorbed the information readily, and by 6 p.m., her brain was afire with new knowledge.
“I think my brain is going to swell and drip out of my ears,” she said while Jose showed her the closing procedures. In reverse fashion from earlier, the nurses, techs and doctors exited the clinic, smiling at Hannah as they walked towards their cars. Jake had surely been somewhere in the crowd, but Hannah hadn’t seen him.
When Jose was finally finished, he showed Hannah how to lock the doors, and out in the parking lot, he had the audacity to put his hand on her elbow for the briefest of moments.
“Hannah,” he said, “I know starting a new job is tough, so if you want to get some drinks and unwind, I know a nice little place…”
“Thanks Jose,” she quickly said, “but I’m exhausted. I need to digest everything you told me today.”
A flash of disappointment crossed Jose’s features, but after a moment, he managed a smile. “I understand — but tomorrow, come in at 8 a.m.”
“I’ll be there.”
Hannah watched Jose walked to his blue truck and screech out of the parking lot. Reflexively, she pulled her phone from her purse and found Matt’s goofy picture on her home-screen. Her finger hovered over his visage, contemplating if she wanted to talk to him. Before a decision could be made, two short HONKS drew her attention. She looked up, and Jake was there, sitting in an F-250, looking right at Hannah.
“Hey stranger,” he said, “recognize this truck?”
Hannah blinked, not believing her eyes. She dropped her phone back in her purse and came right to Jake’s window. It was the same rusted truck they had…used…so many years before! Jake had replaced the body, given it a paintjob, and the engine was purring like a cat. The broken windows had all been replaced, and the interior was pristine, creamy-tan leather.
“You like it?” Jake asked. “Dad always said this truck would be mine, and after he passed away, I worked like a madman to restore the old girl.”
“It’s amazing,” Hannah said, leaning into the window so that her cleavage practically rested on Jake’s lap.
“How about a quick ride, for old time’s sake?” he asked.
“Well, I have a boyfriend now…” she said, cursing the words before they even left her mouth.
“That’s OK, I just thought we could talk. Like, catch up on the past few years?”
Hannah debated for a heartbeat. Jake was merely a coworker now, and she already told him she had a boyfriend, so what was the harm? Surely Matt wouldn’t malign her for a stroll down memory lane? Besides — Jake probably wasn’t interested in her anymore, and her misgivings were the products of an overactive imagination.
“Sure, a quick spin,” she said, circling behind the truck and then getting into the passenger seat. Jake smiled as she settled herself, and then he eased the F-250 out of the parking lot, onto the main thoroughfare. He touched a few buttons on the dash, and the seat became warm under Hannah’s ass, coupled with a gentle vibration that was arousing.
“What have you done since high school?” Hannah asked.
“Just a second,” Jake said, removing his scrub top. He now only wore a white t-shirt, and his arms were muscular and tanned. “I’ve been seeing patients all day, and this needs a wash.” He tossed the scrub top in the backseat, and then fixed Hannah with a calm, interested gaze. “I took a job at my uncle’s auto-body shop, and then I started night classes to become a registered nurse. I just graduated last spring. I haven’t had much fun since high school — just preparing for the real world, I guess.”
“Wow…I didn’t think you would, well…”
Instead of being offended, Jake smiled. “I know, I know. You thought I was a trailer-park boy who wouldn’t ever go to college and be successful.”
“No! I mean, no…” Hannah began.
“It’s OK,” Jake said. “My mom still can’t believe I have a college degree and a job. I guess I saw my dad all those years, toiling under car hoods, and I wanted something better. I’m not saying that I’m smart, I’m just…determined to get what I want.”
As he spoke these words, Hannah noticed that Jake had turned off the main street, and they were now meandering down a country road, cornfields and cows on both sides of them. The sun was sinking in the sky, casting the countryside in a romantic gloom of shades and half-shadows. “Where are we going?” Hannah asked.
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